Five days.
It feels like I’ve been in Moscow for five weeks, but no. Just five long days. Other than being thousands of miles away from Dante and missing him like crazy, I have no reason to complain. Anatolij is a true gentleman. The kind most women consider extinct. Impeccable, aristocratic manners, IQ north of one-fifty for sure, and one of the most pleasant-to-talk-to people I’ve ever encountered.
We only spend time together in the evenings because, during the day, Anatolij is either away or locked in his office on the third floor, nearby my bedroom. Still, even those few hours every evening are enough for me to like him.
He’s nothing like his brother, Nikolaj. No, Anatolij is polite, well-organized, and infernally intelligent. There isn’t a topic he can’t hold a conversation on. His intelligence doesn’t impress me half as much as his impeccable manners.
When we arrived in Moscow, he took the time to show me around the castle and personally accommodated me in a large bedroom overlooking the rose garden. He said it looks beautiful when the flowers are in full bloom, but I enjoy how it looks covered in snow too.
The first evening when we sat down to dinner, he gathered his men, ordering them to speak English in front of me or remain silent if they couldn’t. My protests were dismissed. Anatolij wants me to feel comfortable in his home. And I do. All it took were a few hours spent alone with him after Julij called it a day, heading off to bed early on the first night. Now, I feel almost right at home.
Nikolaj and Anatolij are like two ends of a spectrum. One was ostentatious, obnoxious, and loud, while the other is an oasis of calmness. It’s all the more surprising because Anatolij is only thirty-eight. I would’ve considered a man his age to be more like Dante—eager, impatient, always rushing, but Anatolij has all the time in the world.
A soft knock on the bedroom door halts my attempt to zip-up a white halter dress. There was no reason to pack a dress for freezing-cold Moscow, but I did, just in case.
What a great choice that was…
I’ve been gifted a free-access pass to my dream come true. The last thing I expected to find in the basement of Anatolij’s fourteen-century castle is a ballroom, but it’s there. Modernized like the rest of the imposing structure, and mine to use when I please. I plan on spending a couple of hours down there every morning to help the time pass quicker.
“Come in.” I stand in front of a long mirror, twisting my arm back to reach the zipper.
Julij enters the room in a white shirt, with two buttons popped at the top. It goes well with his baby-blue jacket and beige trousers. “I need to get going. My flight leaves in two hours.”
I’ve dreaded this moment since we landed. Despite feeling welcome here, unease jabs my mind at the prospect of being left here alone, without Julij. He wants to go back to Chicago, adamant that Dante needs his help, but I’m not dumb. I know the unsaid truth. Dante doesn’t want Julij here alone with me.
He crosses the room and grips my arm to twirl me around. “I’m not thrilled about leaving you here alone with Anatolij.” His fingertips brush against the skin on my lower back when he reaches for the zipper. “Don’t be naïve, Layla. You’re a guest here, and you’re safe but don’t get too close to anyone.”
He sounds like Frank and Dante. They both accused me of naivety on more than one occasion. Now, Julij joins the pack. His condescending tone drives me mad. If only he knew how hard I try to draw a line that separates Layla, who thought of herself as nothing more than Frank Harston’s daughter, from Layla, who realized there is more.
“Don’t beat around the bush, Julij. If you want to say something, say it. What have I done wrong this time?”
He slides his calloused hands down my arms, slowly, gently, before he cuffs me half an inch above my elbows and tugs, pulling me in, my back to his chest, our eyes locked in the mirror. “Nothing, sugar. You did nothing wrong, but I am worried about you being here alone.”
He wraps one arm over my chest, eyes scrutinizing our reflection as if memorizing how we look together. It’s a pretty picture, a striking contrast of complexion, height, and hair color. Julij can’t deny his heritage. There’s not one particularly noticeable feature that betrays his heritage, but high cheekbones, a heavy brow ridge, and a pointy chin clue you into his Slavic descent. Especially when coupled with his height and slim but broad build.
“You’re beautiful, you know that sugar?” he whispers. His warm breath fans my neck, introducing a wave of goosebumps. “I remember the first time I saw you in Dubai. You wore a see-through beach dress over a yellow bikini.”
The memory brings a smile to my face despite Julij’s awful attitude at first. I remember the first day in Dubai as if it was yesterday. Maybe because I was in pain throughout the evening. We arrived early in the morning, and once the sun came out, I resigned myself to a lounger by the pool. Five hours later, I woke up from an unintentional nap… my back burned bright red by then. I considered my sunbathing time to be over at that point.
Nikolaj arrived with his family later in the afternoon, and Julij’s mother healed my sunburn with two tubs of natural yogurt. The idea seemed abstract at the time, but it worked. Two days later, I was sunbathing again, covered in SPF30.
“I’ve liked you since the moment you introduced yourself. I didn’t like feeling that way. I thought I was too young to want more than sex from a girl, but I couldn’t shake those feelings, and—”
“And you acted like an ass for two weeks,” I cut in, uncomfortable with where this conversation is heading.
The fondness in Julij’s voice and how he holds me tightly in his arms is too intimate. Too close. There’s too much awe in his eyes and in the tone of his voice. I hope the forced smile masks my embarrassment well when I wriggle out of Julij’s embrace.
His shoulders sag, but he shifts his weight from one foot to another, standing tall again. “You spend a lot of time with Anatolij, Layla. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m glad you two get along. Just don’t let him pull the wool over your eyes. I’m pretty sure he wants to sleep with you.”
“Excuse me?”
I’ve spent every evening with Anatolij, engrossed in a polite conversation. He never once paid me a compliment or looked at me suggestively. He’s hospitable and well-behaved. Nothing more. Anatolij or the fact we get along isn’t the problem. Julij’s vivid imagination and jealousy are. What I pegged for an innocent crush evolved into unwanted feelings. I pray he’ll stop acting so infatuated in front of Dante, or else our friendship, if I can still call it that, won’t last another week.
“How could you think I’d cheat on Dante?” I fume, the unspoken accusation like a slap across my face. “You’re ridiculous. Where is this even coming from? I know I’m not ugly, and you could say I’m nice sometimes, although that’d be slander, but not every guy is out to sleep with me!”
Julij squeezes the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply. “I didn’t say you’d do it. I said he’d do you if he got the chance.”
“No! No, he wouldn’t. You would. That’s why you see a rival in everyone. News flash,” I point to the ring on my finger, “I’m engaged! Neither you nor anyone other than Dante will ever touch me.”
Julij grinds his teeth, pinning me down with his freezing-blue stare. “He’s all you know. He’s the first man in your life, Layla, but he doesn’t have to be the last. You’ve no idea if he’s the one because—”
“You’re playing with fire, Julij, and you will get burned.”
“Too little too late for that.” He turns on his heel but turns back halfway to the door, reaching for my hand. His hot lips touch my forehead, and a tight embrace follows. “Stay safe, sugar. It’ll all be over soon.”
Then, he leaves, and my anger leaves too. I can’t stay mad at him for long. The heart doesn’t choose… it feels. Julij’s heart feels what it never should. Not for me.
My heart feels for Dante more than it can handle. A long list of all the reasons why I shouldn’t have let myself fall in love with him didn’t mean a thing almost from the very start. My heart knew better.
Who am I to hold Julij’s feelings against him? There’s not much he can do about them.
I finish getting ready, pull my hair up in a ponytail and leave the room. Julij’s voice echoes through the long, empty corridors as I descend the stairs. My name on his lips stops me dead in my tracks. I shouldn’t, but I hide around the corner. They stand in the hallway outside the dining room, Julij with a travel bag in hand, Anatolij with the morning paper by his side, an impassive look on his face.
“You promised to keep Layla safe, Anatolij. While I’m grateful, I’m not blind. Keeping her safe is all I want you to do. I’d rather you didn’t spend time with her.”
God, I want to punch him right in the gut. He’s crossing a line he’ll regret crossing once Dante finds out about this.
Anatolij’s expression morphs from unreadable to irritated. “Are you suggesting what I think you are, Julij? I sincerely hope not.”
They fall silent, staring each other down. I glance around, checking for Anatolij’s men wandering the castle. I should’ve retreated upstairs instead of eavesdropping, but my legs are glued to the spot they occupy.
“You’re my nephew,” Anatolij says slowly. “But not even that gives you the right to voice absurd accusations. I know you love her, but—”
“This isn’t about me,” Julij growls, gripping the handle of his suitcase harder. “Dante trusted my judgment when he agreed to send Layla here. It wasn’t a decision he took lightly, so if anything happens to her while she’s under your protection, it will be on my head.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. You suggesting my home as a safe place for Layla was not why he agreed. He’s not one to trust anyone’s judgment but his. I assure you there’s a very good reason why Layla is here of all places.”
Julij has no chance of retaliating. The front door opens before them, and Lew enters. Great timing. His arrival gives me the perfect opportunity to emerge from my hiding spot.
***
The following day, I’m downstairs for breakfast an hour earlier than usual. Anatolij’s already there, dressed as if he’s due to make an appearance at the Oscars. Just like Dante, he favors his suits. While Dante alternated between cobalt blue, black and gray, Anatolij is always in black.
“Good morning.” He peers up from above the morning newspaper. “I’m glad you’re here. I want to talk to you.” He falls silent, one eyebrow slightly raised as he watches me take a seat on the opposite side of the long table, able to fit twelve people. “Are you feeling okay?”
As okay as one can be given my situation, I guess. “Yes, I’m fine.” I point to my face and red, puffy eyes. “Lack of sleep. I woke up a few times hearing someone outside my door. I struggle to fall back asleep once I wake up.”
I swear, at one point during the night, someone stood in the doorway when I opened my eyes and rolled over. The creepy silhouette disappeared when I blinked, though.
“That’s my fault. The door on the other side of the corridor hides a library. I couldn’t sleep, so I went over there to read.”
“A library?” That knowledge would’ve come in handy while I’ve been bored out of my mind for six days. There’s only so much TV a girl can watch. “You didn’t mention it when you showed me around the first day.”
“I didn’t peg you for a bookworm. All the bookcases on the left wall house English books. Feel free to read whatever and whenever you want.”
“Thank you. There’s not much to do around here. Especially in this weather. Any distraction is worth its weight in gold.”
He nods absentmindedly. His eyes bore into mine, but he looks lost in thought while the maid fills his cup with fresh coffee. “I’m hosting a charity event on Saturday,” he continues once she leaves the room, presumably to fetch a cup for me. “It’s an annual occurrence. I invite influential people and squeeze as much money out of them as possible.”
“I’ll stay out of the way.” I spread honey on a piece of toast. Neither Anatolij nor the cooks asked me what my favorite dishes are, but I’m served something I love every day. It’s a silly thing, but I’m warm knowing that Dante took care of the smallest details trying to make sure I’d feel good around here. “I’ll take a book and lock myself in the bedroom for the day.”
“You misunderstand, Layla. I’m not telling you about the ball, so you’ll stay out of the way. I’m telling you because I’d like you to join me. Lew will take you shopping this afternoon. I reserved the best boutique in Moscow for private shopping. No one will disturb you.”
A ball sounds much better than a day alone in my bedroom. After a short stroll in the garden with Anatolij last night, I realized that I truly am a princess once he pointed high up to where my bedroom is in the western tower. The castle stands on a hill, surrounded by miles of woodland as if conjured from a children’s storybook. Despite the imposing, intimidating structure, it’s perfect, with no sign of wear on the stone walls. I couldn’t help but imagine unicorns galloping along the tree lines in the distance because, why not? If castles with high towers, kill orders, and men like Dante are real, unicorns might as well be too.
As enticing as the idea of dancing the night away in a shimmery ballgown might be, I’m in Russia for an entirely different reason than entertainment.
“You do remember that thanks to my Dad, there’s a bounty on my head, right? With all the safety measures already in place, I don’t think attending a ball is a good idea.
“No one can lift their finger around here without my consent. You’re safe, Layla. You have my word.”
“I appreciate the offer, really, but I’m sure Dante won’t agree. Safety first.”
A shadow of a smile crosses Anatolij’s handsome face. “I wouldn’t extend an invitation if I hadn’t cleared it with your fiancé first. Dante’s aware of the ball. He approved all the security measures I put in place. The choice is now yours alone.”
Oh. Isn’t this an unexpected turn of events? Dante must trust Anatolij more than I anticipated if he agreed. The ball sounds great, and shopping, or rather the possibility of leaving the castle tempts me like the snake tempted Eve.
“Will there be dancing?”
Crinkles surround Anatolij’s eyes when he smiles, rising to his feet. “The theme is The Great Gatsby. Choose something, as you Americans say, bling-bling.”
I tilt my head to the side to look him over. “You do have something in common, you know?”
“Me and Gatsby?”
“No. You and Leonardo. Your hair is just too dark.”
With another dazzling smile, he bows slightly and leaves me alone to finish breakfast.
